


Visited

by OpheliaKatherineDokee



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: F/M, I'm Going to Hell, Incest but she doesn't know it, Morningspell, Parent/Child Incest, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sort of Nabrina but not really, glamour spells
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:33:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23441755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OpheliaKatherineDokee/pseuds/OpheliaKatherineDokee
Summary: After Father Blackwood refuses to lift Hilda's excommunication in time for his wedding to Zelda, she reluctantly assigns the role of Maid of Dishonor to her niece.  But when Sabrina discovers what the role truly entails and her defiant nature causes her to make a stand, she finds herself in a horrifying predicament...
Relationships: Nicholas Scratch/Sabrina Spellman, Sabrina Spellman & Zelda Spellman, The Dark Lord | Satan/Sabrina Spellman
Comments: 25
Kudos: 152





	Visited

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to take a short break from Queen of the Ashes to write this screwed up piece, inspired by Zelda's throwaway statement about having to make Sabrina Maid of Honor if Hilda couldn't be. All I could think after that disturbing scene with Zelda and the Dark Lord was that it was a really good thing Blackwood DID agree to let Hilda rejoin the Church of Night, because if Sabrina had been the one attending to her then she definitely would have tried to stop him and it would have been a disaster.  
> I must warn you that those tags are there for a reason. This fic is DARK and contains explicit scenes of non-con, as well as mentions of violence/gore, so trigger warning. Reader discretion is advised.

“I still think this is barbaric, if you ask me!”

Sabrina's steadfast declaration was met with a sigh of exasperation by her Aunt Zelda, who was already in enough of a vexed state as it was. The two of them had been waiting for a while now. Waiting for the visit...the visit, that may or may not come.

Sabrina was fervently hoping it didn't, and she was fairly sure Zelda was secretly hoping the same. Though of course someone as devout as her would never admit that.

“No one asked you, Sabrina. Who are you to decide that our long-held customs are barbaric just because they go against your professed wokeness?”

Sabrina rolled her eyes at her aunt's attempt at modern lingo. They were often at odds with one another when it came to the Path of Night and all its intricacies, but surely even Zelda should admit what an oppressive, misogynistic tradition this was. She was an independent and progressive-minded witch who wouldn't stand for anything like this elsewhere, so why was she defending it here?

“This isn't about being “woke” or whatever you're going to call it. It goes way beyond that. I mean come on. Claiming a bride's first night? This is the kind of thing they did during the medieval times, for Satan's sake.”

Or not for His sake, as He was apparently the one who decreed this, and any deity who showed such blatant disregard for women's consent was no God of hers.

“You might be down with this, but what about the witches who aren't? Are they expected to go along with it whether they like it or not? Just because it's tradition?”

“Always with the melodramatics. Of course not. He only comes for the most devout of His followers, who are all too honored at the opportunity to share His bed,” Zelda scoffed, with a short, humorless titter. “You don't need to worry about Him ever coming for _you_.”

She had obviously been banking on this. Sabrina had never even known about the first night tradition until today, and the only reason Zelda had seen fit to divulge it now was because Father Blackwood refused to lift Aunt Hilda's excommunication, thus making it impossible for her to perform her duties as Maid of Dishonor.

And so all of them had fallen to Sabrina instead.

A shouting match between Zelda and Sabrina had ensued when she learned what the job truly entailed, with her insisting there was no way she would be an accessory to her aunt's assault at the hands of a demon, and her aunt simultaneously rebuking her disrespect towards their Dark Lord. It was only when Hilda joined in on Zelda's side that Sabrina had very grudgingly agreed to the task.

Still, she wasn't happy about it, and she was disappointed to think that Hilda herself would have been more OK with it than her. Her younger aunt had never been as fanatical as Zelda, and she would have hoped that she too would blanch at the idea of offering her up to the Dark Lord's mercy or lack thereof.

Unless...Hilda knew that it was truly what Zelda wanted. Sometimes Sabrina found it hard to admit it to herself, but she was a relative newcomer to the Spellman family. Zelda, Hilda and Ambrose had all been alive for over a hundred years, while she was only sixteen. She was practically a baby by witch standards.

“So...you really aren't scared at all? You actually want Him to visit you?” She couldn't see any attraction in the prospect of laying with a demonic...goat creature, but if that was what Zelda was into then who was she to judge?

A look of misty awe appeared in her aunt's immaculately made-up eyes at the question.

“Nothing would bring me more delight. I only hope He is able to see my devotion towards Him, and considers me worthy of such an honor.” She spoke so earnestly that Sabrina had no reason to doubt her sincerity.

She faltered a little then. If Zelda really was all too willing and like she said, it was only extreme devotees who got visited, then what was really the problem? Maybe she had overreacted. Maybe she was making a big deal over nothing. Maybe now that she had handed over her father's manifesto to the Anti-Pope, she was just too focused on finding her next great cause to get het up about. Maybe-

Her trail of doubts was cut short when the bedroom's doors were thrown open.

He had come.

There He stood; A tall, horned silhouette that darkened their doorway, casting a shadow over the entire room, blackness seeming to radiate from His entire being. The stench of burning brimstone, the fires of Hell, filled their nostrils.

The Dark Lord, Satan, Lucifer Morningstar, had indeed deemed Zelda Spellman “worthy” of honoring.

Zelda was turned away from the door, but she saw all too clearly in Sabrina's face that the time had come.

“He hath come for me,” she whispered, utmost shock written across her fine features. She truly hadn't expected Him to come and now that He had, she was...

Horrified.

Yes, Aunt Zelda was horrified. As she fell to her knees, her back still turned from her Dark Lord, Sabrina could see it all too well. Her hands shook as she clutched at the folds of her black nightgown. All color had drained from her face. Her eyes had filled with tears and her small frame, which suddenly seemed far too fragile, trembled uncontrollably.

Sabrina would have liked to believe Zelda was overcome with joy or even just a healthy bout of nerves, but she knew better. She was familiar with how her aunt behaved when gripped by either of those emotions, and she knew for a fact that at this moment, Zelda was absolutely petrified.

The Dark Lord made His way towards her with almost mocking slowness, each footfall sending a tremor of terror through both witches. Zelda mouthed a single word to Sabrina.

“ _Go._ ”

And Sabrina knew then that Zelda had never really wanted this. She should have known before. Aunt Zelda was, as always, bound by what duty and dishonor demanded. It had been the same when she stood for the Spellman family at the Feast of Feasts, and she was no more joyed at the prospect of being raped by the Dark Lord than being eaten by the entire coven. For that was what this was going to end up being- rape.

“ _Leave!_ ” Zelda urged her again, more desperately this time, but Sabrina couldn't move an inch. To leave now would be to leave her aunt to her fate, and she couldn't do that. Not if she had any intention of living with herself for the rest of her life.

She couldn't. She wouldn't let this happen.

When she finally moved, it was not to run out the back door and leave Zelda alone with Him, as per the original plan. Instead, she flew forwards with a sudden momentum she didn't know she had, flinging herself between Zelda and the approaching Dark Lord and raising a hand to Him.

“Stop!”

And in that second, everything did seem to stop. It was as though time and space itself were stunned into silence by Sabrina's incredibly brave- and incredibly stupid- act of defiance. The Dark Lord halted in His tracks and behind her, Zelda went entirely still, ceasing both her shaking and stifled weeping. But Sabrina ploughed on.

“You can't do this! Can't you see she's unwilling? Don't repay her devotion like this!”

He did not react to Sabrina's outburst with fury as she had expected, but rather studied her with what appeared to be mild amusement. It was the same way one might view an angry kitten or acting-out toddler, and when He finally spoke, it was in that low whisper that seemed entirely at odds with His monstrous appearance.

“It would seem that you have not yet learned your lesson.”

Sabrina knew all too well what “lesson” He was referring to, and it was extremely presumptuous of Him to believe it had taught her anything. She had nearly burned her school down for Him, true, but only because it was either that or Salem's death. Her loyalties, or rather lack thereof, had not changed. He had won her temporary obedience but He would never have her devotion.

Hearing the Dark Lord speak was what stirred life into Zelda Spellman. She leapt to her feet, seized her niece and slapped her across the face; a rather light slap, not hard enough to hurt. But Zelda had never hit her before and Sabrina couldn't help but wince at it, clutching her cheek and blinking back tears.

“Please forgive my niece's impudence, Dark Lord!” Zelda begged Him, clutching Sabrina as though to try and protect her from His inevitable wrath, “She is a foolish, naive child who knows not what she does.”

The Dark Lord still made no further move in their direction, His terrible fiery eyes not leaving Sabrina.

“On the contrary, dear Zelda, I would say that your niece knows exactly what she does,” He rumbled, his voice louder and more guttural, not looking at her as He continued to scrutinize the hapless teen, “Nor would I dismiss her as a mere child. Sabrina is clearly a woman.”

Those words, and their implications, hung in the air for a moment. Zelda had gone as still as a statue again, her protective hands tightening on Sabrina's shoulders. Her aunt was more frightened now than she had been before, but Sabrina knew she was no longer fearing for herself. No, Auntie Zee was far more scared for her now. She was terrified of what horrific punishment the Dark Lord had in mind for her niece.

He beckoned Sabrina with a long, clawed finger.

“Come.”

“Sabrina, no!” Zelda gasped, but Sabrina took no heed of her aunt's words as she left the safety of her embrace. They both knew she didn't really have any option but to obey- not if she wanted them to have any chance of surviving the night.

Each step she made towards the Dark Lord was as heavy as though the very Earth's core was trying to pull her down, ground her, stop her from moving any further in the direction of certain doom. Just a few short strides seemed to take an age, but it was still too soon before she was standing before Him.

He took her face in one massive hand, the same sharp claws that drew her blood when she signed His book now digging into her flesh, although He did not break her skin now. Despite the heavy scent of fire and smoke emanating from Him, His grip was cold.

“Do you wish for your aunt to be spared, Sabrina?”

Sabrina bit her lip, wondering if it was a trick question. “Yes...”

“That is fine. Your concern for those you view as family is very touching. But I came here to claim my rights as your Dark Lord, and I will not go until I am satisfied.”

He relinquished His grasp on her, but Sabrina knew better than to feel any relief over this slight reprieve. He gazed down at her with a predator's eyes, and she was his helpless prey. She had the feeling that were His face that of a human, He would have been leering.

Even so, nothing could have prepared her for what came next.

“If you want me to leave Zelda Spellman untouched, then you must take her place.”

“NO!”

Her aunt screamed her dissent before Sabrina even had the chance to say anything in response to the Dark Lord's sick, twisted proposition. His eyes flashed in Zelda's direction, and the older witch forced herself to calm as she attempted to reason with her God.

“Dark Lord, I beseech you. Sabrina is but a child. I'm the one you came for and I offer no objection. Take me and let Sabrina leave-” she began, her voice wavering in terror for her niece. It was not to be.

“Silence! My offer was to her, not you,” the Dark Lord snarled at her, and Zelda fell silent again. He turned his attention back to the terrified, shell-shocked teenager. “What say you, Sabrina, my daughter of Night? Will you give your body unto me, as you already have your soul?”

“I...” Sabrina struggled to form a coherent sentence, as though she had forgotten how to even speak. Her mind appeared to have melted into liquid mush, so overcome she was with shock and revulsion.

What He was suggesting was abhorrent, for more reasons than one. His monstrous, animalistic appearance was only part of it.

She despised Him with every fibre of her being, detested Him for the iron fist with which He ruled over witchkind. His selfish need for His followers to love only Him, the grisly acts of bloodshed He demanded they perform in His name, and the archaic, oppressive laws He apparently approved of. The Church of Night hailed Him as a champion of free will, but if that had ever truly been the case then it certainly wasn't now.

Father Blackwood might insist Satan was above good and evil, but she was more inclined to believe the mortal view of Him...that He was the very embodiment of evil.

And for some reason she couldn't fathom, the Dark Lord appeared to have developed a disturbing fascination with her, so obsessed He was with trying to get her to submit to Him. This would be the ultimate victory for Him. He was probably aware that she was still a virgin and while that shouldn't mean anything, to someone like Him it surely meant everything. She would be another one of His conquests.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Aunt Zelda watching them, white as a ghost. She shook her head at Sabrina, still wanting her to refuse the Dark Lord's proposal.

It was then that Sabrina realized the full extent of how much she had screwed up. Zelda was a strong woman, who had faced worse in her long life. As awful as it was that duty compelled her to give herself to the Dark Lord, it would not have broken her. But having to witness such a thing happen to Sabrina was another matter entirely. She knew it would torment her aunt for years to come.

She was Zelda's true weakness. By trying to save her, she had made things far worse for both of them.

She should have listened to Auntie Zee in the first place.

But there was no backing down now. She was doomed either way, and she would not give Him the satisfaction of displaying cowardice. Nor would she risk putting her aunt's life in any more danger than she already had, thanks to her own rash actions. She had gotten herself into this mess and now she had to see it through.

Swallowing hard, she forced her answer out.  
“...I'll do it...”

“No, Sabrina!” Zelda cried, and it was all Sabrina could do not to break down crying herself. She regretted everything.

As usual, the Dark Lord was without pity.

“Must I remove your tongue, witch?”

“Please, my niece doesn't understand what she's agreeing to! I beg of you, let me-”

“Sabrina understands, as do you. She has willingly volunteered to fulfil your duties in your stead and it would be wasteful to turn down such a deliciously dark devotion. But as your presence here is no longer needed, you can consider yourself dismissed,” He told her, brutally. “Unless, of course, you wish to join in?” She could practically hear the smirk in His tone.

Disgust mingled with the despair on Zelda's face. With one last, anguished look in her niece's direction, she turned her heel and was out the door, slamming it shut behind her.

Sabrina involuntarily took a few steps after her before stopping herself. While she knew it must destroy her aunt to have to abandon her like that, she was sure Zelda understood that trying to oppose the Dark Lord's will any further would only put them both in graver danger, possibly resulting in their deaths. She hoped Zelda would have the sense to stay away even when she hadn't herself.

With a sort-of defeated acceptance settling over her, she turned to go back to the Dark Lord's side...only to startle when she came face-to-face with Him. She hadn't heard Him move yet He had sneaked up on her without her noticing.

He had her arm in His icy grip before she had time to so much as gasp in fright. She let out a startled squeak as He threw her, as easily as if she were a rag doll, onto the awaiting bed. As she lay there, stunned, she couldn't help noticing she was surrounded by scattered rose petals, the bed made up as though in preparation for a night of romance rather than an act of sexual assault.

It was sickening, and so bitterly ironic.

She fought the urge to edge away while the Dark Lord advanced, staring up in mute fear as He reached the foot of the bed and stood over her.

Whenever she had seen depictions of the Baphomet before, in paintings and sculptures such as the huge statue in the Academy of Unseen Arts' foyer, she had always thought it looked...pretty cool. Not in an attractive way, but there was a strange magnificence to His bestial form that was pleasing from an aesthetic standpoint at least.

But now she was seeing Him in the flesh, in proper lighting as opposed to the shadows that cloaked Him the previous couple of times she had encountered Him, she could see how horrifying He truly was.

Everything about Him was...wrong.

She supposed He was somewhat goat-like; what with the fur that coated Him, His hoofed feet, and the curving horns that crowned His head.

Yet goats were gentle, herbivorous creatures. The Dark Lord's many sharp, protruding fangs spoke of a far more carnivorous nature, as did the razor sharp claws His scaled hands ended in.  
And those eyes...those terrible red eyes. Even with their fiery fury, they looked all too human. But Lucifer Morningstar had never been human. He had been a beautiful angel once, the most radiant, or so she had been told. Looking at Him now, she had trouble believing it.

Possibly most disturbing of all was the gaping maw in His abdomen, lined with teeth surely sharp enough to tear her skin into ribbons. Whether it be a second mouth that also required sustenance or merely some bizarre deformity, she didn't know, nor did she want to.

He was an abomination of nature. Seeing Him...no, just being in His presence...it made her skin crawl.

Maybe He was able to read her mind (she hoped not), or perhaps her face said it all. In either case, the Dark Lord seemed to get the gist of what she was thinking and He was not pleased.

His cruel gaze narrowed and He grabbed her again, turning her so she was faced away from Him. Gripping the back of her neck, He pushed her onto her hands and knees. So He intended to take her from behind. As degrading as it was, she was glad. At least she didn't have to look at Him this way.

Any relief she felt was soon snuffed out when He raked His claws downwards, shredding through the fabric of her blouse and bra as easily as though it were paper. She instinctively reached up to hold the ruined garment to her chest in the vain effort to guard her modesty.  
With an angered growl, He snatched her hands and pinned them down, holding them there for a moment and when He released her, she didn't dare try to cover herself again.

He made quick work of her pants and underwear, exposing her lower half and although she couldn't see Him, she could feel His lustful eyes on her. She bowed her head, eyes squeezed shut to stop her tears from falling, her face burning in humiliation.  
This was not how she wanted her first time to be- or any time for that matter- but especially not her first. It should have been with Nick.

Oh, Nick. She didn't even want to think about him right now, knowing that she was betraying him.  
She doubted she would ever want to be intimate with anyone again after this- that was, if she survived the night.

She found herself flinching when the Dark Lord trailed His hand down her back, goosebumps rising where He made contact, and her stomach turned, a wave of nausea hitting her that could have been caused by nerves or revulsion.

 _Keep it together, Brina._  
She didn't know how she was going to make it through this ordeal, but she had to somehow.

He moved to her head, claws running through her white blonde tresses with surprising tenderness, and His following question surprised her even more.

“Do I repulse you, child?” His voice was barely a murmur.

Bemused, Sabrina hesitated over what to say in response.  
“...Umm...” The honest answer would have been a definite yes but considering how easily He could rip her head from her shoulders, she figured honesty wasn't the best policy here.

“No, Dark Lord-”

The lie had hardly left her mouth when He tightened His grip on her hair, seizing a fistful of it and yanking her head back. Her squeak of pain was stifled when His other hand squeezed her throat.

“Do not lie to me!” He hissed in her ear, hot breath on her neck, “I am the Father of Lies! I can always tell. I sense your disgust, your...disdain. I see it in the pathetic, weak hearts of your kind whenever I appear before you. All the witches who pray for me to grace their beds until they lay eyes on me. It matters not. As long as they continue to fear and obey me, I could care less what they truly think...but I will not tolerate it now. Not from you.”

Not from...her? For a brief second, Sabrina's mind buzzed in further confusion amid her fear and pain, and rapidly declining oxygen. Why did He care so much what she thought? Why would it possibly matter to Him? Just why was He so fixated on her? There was something going on here that she didn't understand.

But she had no time to ponder it now, not when she was sure He intended to kill her. Black spots were appearing in her vision, the pressure on her larynx was building and she couldn't breathe-

Then the pressure was gone, His grip on her throat loosened.

She gasped for breath, head spinning as the air rushed back into her lungs. As she coughed and sputtered like someone who had just been saved from drowning, she half-wished He had gotten things over with. But no, it seemed He was determined to have His way with her first.

She let out a small shriek when He tightened His grasp again slightly, not hard enough to asphyxiate her, and forcefully turned her head to look at Him. She closed her eyes, not wanting His hateful demonic face and horrible flaming gaze to be the last thing she saw.

But when she finally opened them again, it was not Baphomet she was confronted with. She found herself staring into the familiar face of Nicholas Scratch.

She gaped, her mouth opening slightly in shock at the sight of her lover. The Dark Lord had matched his appearance down to a T, even imitating the mischievous yet good-natured smile he so often wore. He could have fooled her if it weren't for His eyes, which still held a red sheen...though even that didn't seem quite so horrific on a human.

He was also entirely naked, but she tried not to focus on that.

Seeing Nick was reminding her again of her infidelity, and she was hit by a pang of guilt. Apparently the Dark Lord had decided it would be fun to taunt her about it. His pettiness knew no bounds.

“Is this form more pleasing to you?” Even His voice sounded like Nick's, though there was a strange, dark dissonance to it.

So it was vanity instead. And despite the regret that Nick's devastating visage had caused to surface, she found she did indeed prefer Him like this.

But...it could be a trick. If she admitted to finding Nick more appealing, He may take that as blasphemy and destroy her for it. However, He would be angry if she tried to lie to Him too. Her throat was still aching from where He had choked her.

She fretted over what to say, and He pressed a finger to her lips before she had the chance to.

“The truth.”

His red eyes bored into hers with frightening intensity.

Numbly, she nodded. And it was the truth. She knew it was only a glamour spell, that beneath its illusion the Beast still lurked, but she found it helped. Maybe she could somehow forget He was actually Satan, suspend her belief and pretend it truly was Nick she was with.

She had evidently done the right thing. Nick-Lucifer's hand in her hair became gentle again, caressing her soft curls, and he released his grip on her throat altogether. Wrapping an arm around her front, he drew her against Nick's hard toned chest.  
It wasn't the only thing that was hard, she noted with some unease. She could feel his obvious arousal pressing against her ass, his own passions already inflamed.

He nuzzled at her neck, placing a lingering kiss on her collarbone. Her skin tingled where his lips made contact, the heat from him burning her in a not-so-unpleasant way. And her own temperature was rising too, her body responding to him even as her mind remained blank.

The combination of Lucifer's infernal dark magick, and Nick's familiar, comforting touch was intoxicating, putting her into a lusty haze.

And he knew all too well the effect he was having, if his responding snicker was any indication. She had thought she would endure this, not enjoy it, but it seemed he had other plans.

He continued to lavish her neck with kisses that soon turned into bites, sucking his way from her ear to her shoulder blade, her flesh more sensitive than it had ever been before. All while his hands wandered. He cupped one of her breasts in his large palm, kneading at it while his thumb brushed over her delicate nipple until it stiffened.

She let out an intake of breath, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment. Even the real Nick had never touched her like this before. Come to think of it, they had never really taken things any further than making out. Now she wished they had done so sooner...because it felt so good, and she would have preferred to experience it with him first.

But then again, Nick didn't have the several millennia worth of experience in sin and debauchery that Lucifer had.

She tried not to dwell on her guilt and her feelings for Nick, but instead on the carnal delights that the being masquerading as him was inducting her in. There was no denying he knew what he was doing. He was not gentle, not patient, and her neck and breasts ached from his attention, but the pleasure that it brought was enough to outweigh any discomfort.

Their continued stimulation was leaving other parts of her yearning, a new heat burning between her legs. She squeezed them together, mortified at her unwilling wantonness.

With another chuckle, Lucifer- no, Nick- forced his hand between them, pressing against her core.

“Admit it, _Spellman_ ,” he crooned to her, fingers delving into her folds, “You want me.”

He was even using Nick's preferred name for her yet his tone betrayed a certain contempt she was sure the real Nick would never have. As sickening as it was, she felt an involuntary shiver run through her and she grew hotter. She became wet as his fingers teased and played at her entrance without penetrating her. A faint whimper escaped her as his forefinger lightly rubbed against her clitoris for a brief moment that was over too soon.

When he pulled them away and held them to her lips, they were sticky with the evidence of her arousal. Obediently, she took his fingers into her mouth and sucked them clean, tasting herself. Even with her back turned to him, she could sense him smile as he thumbed a stray curl out of her face.

“Good girl.” He stroked her head as though she were a cat or dog, and a more dignified part of herself wanted to die on the spot. She forced it down. Her own pride had been what got her into this situation in the first place, and there was no getting out of it now. If finding physical enjoyment in her violation was what would help make it more bearable then she would not be ashamed.

It wasn't the Dark Lord anyway, it was Nick. That was the lie she was going to keep telling herself.

_Nick not Lucifer Nick not Lucifer Nick not Lucifer-_

Her erratic thoughts were interrupted when he delivered a sudden slap to her backside. She craned her neck to shoot him a withering glare and he smirked at her, rubbing her reddening cheek soothingly. Pushing her down so her chest was flattened against the bed while her ass was raised, he bent over her, trailing sucking kisses from the nape of her neck and up her back.

He paused for a moment when he reached the plush curve of her ass, his heated breath fanning her while she trembled in anticipation.

And then he bit down, hard.

Her ensuing indignant squeal was almost instinctive, even though it hadn't hurt too much. Only her insufferable pride. But he had already moved on, his tongue circling her core which was still damp and aching with need from his earlier teasing, and she abandoned any pride she had left. With a pained whine she ground against him, silently begging for his touch.

He gave it. His tongue ran up and down her slit, each lascivious stroke making her wetter and wetter, yet he still neglected the part of her that needed it the most.

She mewled and fidgeted, trying to touch it herself so as to sate her desperate need, and he swatted her hand away, continuing to work at her. He was lapping up the juices he caused to flow but not putting his tongue where she wanted it, and kept this up for a few long minutes until Sabrina was almost sobbing, unable to take any more of this sweet torture.

“Please!” she practically wailed, trying again to touch herself and again being stopped. It was so unfair! She needed... “ _Please..._ ”

He responded with that small, self-satisfied laugh she was quickly becoming accustomed to. And then finally, finally he decided to show her mercy.

The feel of his tongue on her clit was so overwhelming, so overpowering, that she came almost instantaneously. She had experienced orgasms before through her own curious self-exploration, but this was far stronger than any of them. It rippled through her like a surge of electricity, like magical energy, searing her senses and alighting her in a blaze of rapture.

If such eternal bliss could be found here on Earth then she wasn't even sorry that she would never see Heaven.

Her climax left her in a daze, but he was far from done. Not moving his mouth from her swollen clit, he flicked at it with his tongue and despite the stupor she was in, Sabrina soon felt her arousal beginning to build once more. She moaned, half-heartedly trying to pull away and he held her still. Thankfully he didn't see fit to torment her again, wasting no time in working her up to another orgasm.

She cried out in sheer ecstasy, muscles clenching and more juices flowing out of her. Her sex was soaking, dripping wet with spent and unspent passion. Despite having had two powerful orgasms in the space of a couple of minutes, her body was hungry for more.

He brought his fingers to her again, this time letting one of them slide all the way in and enter her warmth. She quivered at this new sensation. She was well-prepared for the intrusion but the coolness of his skin was strange when she was so incredibly hot. It was unexpectedly soothing on her sex, which was still sore and sensitive from his previous attentions.

She gasped as he added another digit, her hands clenching on the bedsheets. His fingers weren't small and she had never even explored herself that way with her own. The few times she had tried to finger herself she had found it uncomfortable, so she kept her self-stimulation on the outside, focusing mainly on her clit.

But this...wasn't bad. Good, even, now she was getting used to it. He was moving them in and out of her in a concordant rhythm, her walls tight around him but not painfully so. Deliciously so, in fact. When he pushed in a third digit, she shivered in delight.

If this was just what a few digits felt like inside her, then what would his cock be like?

It seemed that she was about to find out. He withdrew his fingers from her, leaving her insides slick and ready for penetration. A second later she felt something else pushing against her waiting entrance; something much larger, harder and hotter.

She was ready for this. She had to be. She had been ready on Lupercalia but the tragedy of Amalia had gotten in the way, thrown a spanner into the works of their relationship. They hadn't had many chances for intimacy since then but now they were alone together and exploring the realm of carnality. She could finally give her virginity to Nicholas Scratch-

Except, of course, it wasn't her Nicholas.

It was the Dark Lord, wearing his face.

Her enemy.

The reminder of this truth hit her like a sledgehammer. How could she have ever forgotten it, even for one second? What the Heaven had she been thinking, playing make-believe and idyllically going along with the deception that He had created for her?  
Had she lost all her dignity? She had gone from defying Him and standing up to Him to when no one else dared, to acting like his submissive sex-starved slave.

She couldn't even say he had humiliated her. She had humiliated herself.

The shame she had been trying to block out resurfaced with a vengeance. She was ashamed of everything; putting Aunt Zee in danger, submitting to the Dark Lord's demands, betraying Nick... Her Nick, whose body had become Satan's tool to seduce her, and she had fallen for it hook, line and sinker.

This realization caused her to clam up. Disgusted with herself, she closed her legs and pressed them together, blocking his attempt to enter her. He hissed in frustration.

“ _Sabrina..._ ”

“No...” She started to crawl away from him. In an instant he had pinned her down, pushing on her with considerable force, his nails-or were they claws?- digging into her back.

“Sabrina,” he growled, trying to force himself between her thighs which she kept clamped shut.

“No, please, I can't!” She tried to turn herself over, to get up, and he applied more pressure to effectively hold her in place. She continued struggling against him even though she knew it was futile. He was so much stronger than her, and so much more powerful. An infernal being, practically a god, while she was only a half-witch. She couldn't fight him.

Yet in the end it was not his strength that beat her but his words.

“Do you want me to bring Zelda back in here?”

His question held a dark underlying malice.

At the threat, Sabrina immediately stopped struggling, all the fight disappearing from her. She closed her eyes in defeat, tears pooling behind her eyelids.

“No...no...” she sobbed in hopeless protest, face buried in the bedsheets. She wasn't sure if she was crying in fear or shame, or possibly both. She wept as he pried her legs apart and re-positioned himself at her entrance, the head breaching her damp folds.

“Then enough of this. You belong to me, and I _will_ have what's mine. You cannot deny me!”

She trembled beneath him but offered no further resistance, only letting out another silent sob.

Acknowledging her surrender, his demeanour softened slightly...which was all the more disturbing since she knew for a fact that there was nothing soft in his nature. Turning her face to the side, he leaned over her so she could look him in the eye.  
Even with their red glow he almost looked kind, so much like Nick.

He spoke as gently as one would to a frightened animal. “Calm yourself, my daughter. You will feel no pain...only the unholiest pleasure.”

She blinked, and he wiped away a few of her tears. He then moved back and in an effort to distract herself from what she was about to endure, she focused her vision on the occultic paintings adorning the far side wall. One of them depicted the rape of Persephone. She thought she might now have an inkling of how the pagan goddess must have felt.

It was with excruciating slowness that he began to push inside her. Even with all the preparation she had received and the slippery wetness to ease his way in, her body resisted the intrusion. He was so big, and she was so tight, and while her being a virgin may have had something to do with it, she suspected it was mainly because her nerves had caused her to tense up.

She knew losing one's virginity wasn't always supposed to hurt. Roz had told her about her own first time and she said it hadn't been painful, only slightly uncomfortable. But Roz was relaxed and willing for hers, which always helped. Sabrina was beside herself with terror.

And yet, the pain she was expecting never came.

There was a feeling of immense pressure within her as she stretched around him, walls straining to accommodate his large size, and while it didn't hurt or feel particularly unpleasant, she wasn't entirely comfortable with it either.

She grasped the bedsheets, trying to get used to the strange feeling of him deep inside her. She wasn't sure if she ever could, so overwhelming and invasive the sensation was. She had never felt like this before, stuffed full and stretched to the limit with such an intense heat.

She whimpered slightly and he let out a pleased hiss, sliding all the way into her until he was fully buried in her depths, balls resting against her.

He gave her just a moment to attempt to adjust to him, and then he began to fuck her.

He started off slow, driving deep into her centre, her sex squelching with each thrust as she grew ever wetter on him, making each re-entry less difficult. It also helped when he found her clit again and rubbed at it, the stimulation this provided helping her relax and accommodate him better.

He was soon fucking her with ease, and her wanting cunt relished it.

A part of her remained sickened that she could possibly be getting any physical enjoyment out of this. It seemed her mind and her body were separate entities.

She chewed on her lower lip, desperately trying to stifle her moans. The feel of his thumb against her clit and his cock deep inside her were filling her with a pleasure beyond anything she had ever experienced, that built up in her until she thought she might overflow. She was glad he couldn't see her face but her hitched breath and trembling form spoke for her.

“Go on, cry out to me. Say my name. I want to hear it from you,” he goaded her, kneading her ass.

She wouldn't. She couldn't. She had already given up most of her dignity, but she would be damned before she ever exalted him.

When her pleasure reached its peak, she screamed in ecstasy as the wave of euphoria crashed over her. The juices poured out of her, so strong was her climax, and her cries were so loud she would have been amazed if no one else in the Academy heard her. But she didn't say his name- either his or Nick's- nor his title. That was one small victory she wouldn't be granting him.

He wasn't done yet, however. He pulled her up, strong arms holding her against his chest as he continued to thrust into her. The hand that wasn't massaging her clit clutched at her breast, squeezing so hard she was sure they would bruise, and his mouth sucked at the pulse point on her neck.

It wasn't long before he had worked her up to another orgasm. It tore through her, shattering her senses into a million pieces as she came undone in his arms. Her mouth formed a perfect O, a deafening scream erupting from her...but she didn't invoke his name.

She was still shaking as she came down from her high, basking in the afterglow. Entirely spent, she slumped against him, a sweet fatigue settling over her. He had completely exhausted her and he still wasn't finished.

He shoved her forwards again so she was flat on her front, pulling on her hair while he went at her with full force, ruthlessly pounding into her. The bed creaked and grated beneath them, and Sabrina remained as still and unresponsive as she could, not wanting her own passions to be stirred once more. She was too tired.

It seemed to last eternity but he finally went taut, his cock throbbing and twitching inside of her. She tried to tug away from him, not wanting any of his seed.

“No..."

But as always, the word “no” meant absolutely nothing to him. He held onto her hips and continued to pound her as he reached his climax.

“Sabrina...”

Her name was like a prayer on his lips, even though he was her god. He groaned as he came inside her, her walls tightening around him as he emptied himself into her womb. But even as he filled her entirely, all she could feel was an unbearable, aching emptiness.

He held her afterwards, his body hot and flushed against hers, his desires satiated.

She lay in his arms, cold and still as a corpse, both inside and out.

She was grappling with reality, still trying to come to terms with what had happened. It didn't seem real and it was difficult to even know what to think. She got raped by the Devil. Surely she should be feeling sad, or furious, or disgusted, or _something_.

Instead, she felt...nothing.

When she finally spoke, it was in a flat monotone.

“So you've won.”

“Won?” He frowned at her, seeming genuinely perplexed by her statement.

“You got what you wanted. First my soul, and now my body.”

She figured that her initial failure to sign her name in his Book was the reason for his resulting obsession with her. Now that he had her name, and had taken her virginity as collateral, perhaps he would finally be satisfied. Maybe he would find some other uppity young witch who didn't know her place and torment her instead.  
The thought didn't cheer her at all, but it was assuring nonetheless.

“I'm yours, I'm bound in your service for all eternity. So now you can leave me in-” She was cut off when he suddenly pressed his lips to hers.

It wasn't a violent kiss, but it was a deep one. She was so taken aback at his actions that it didn't even occur to her to try and resist as his tongue slipped into her mouth, intertwining with her own.  
It was surreal. She had been fucked by him and yet this seemed like a far greater act of intimacy, on his part anyway. She never would have expected it.

“Child, I will never leave you. You and I will be together forever,” he said, once he eventually broke away.

“What?” She was stricken to hear this, enough to bring her fully out of her blank state.

His leaving her in peace would have been the only good thing that could have possibly come out of this, and now he was snatching that silver lining away from her? Would he be visiting her again and demanding more from her? More of this? He had taken Lilith, the very first witch, as his mistress. Maybe he intended to do the same with her. Just the thought of it made her want to weep.

The look he gave her was almost pitying.

“You are my destiny, and I am yours. You were born for a great purpose. I have such glorious, infernal, world-changing plans...and you shall be instrumental in them.”

Sabrina was stupefied. She remembered what Blackwood had told her when he was trying to persuade her to take her Dark Baptism.

 _“_ _Oh my child, you have no idea how special you are, do you?”_

At the time she thought he was just sweet-talking her, possibly playing up her status as the former high priest's daughter.  
Now she wondered if there might be more to it, but what? She was just a half-witch.

She was about to ask what these world-changing plans were (as unlikely as it was she would get a clear answer) but never got the chance. At that moment the most earsplitting, blood-curdling scream sounded in the distance. A female scream.

He didn't seem remotely surprised to hear it. In fact, he seemed pleased, a lazy smile spreading across Nick's devilishly handsome face. It widened when he saw her apprehensive expression.

“And it seems those plans are already being put into action. I will take my leave now but rest assured, dear one, that we will be meeting again very soon. And when we do, it will be...different. Until then...” Taking her hand in his, he brought his lips to the back of it. She gasped in pain as she felt a burning sensation and when he released her, she saw his sigil marked onto her skin.

“Farewell, my daughter of Night.”

And he was gone.

Sabrina lay on the bed in a dishevelled heap, light-headed and still unable to comprehend what she had been through. _Did that really just happen?_ She didn't get time to dwell on it, however. No sooner had the Dark Lord vanished when she heard the door being flung open.

Aunt Zelda burst into the room, face pale and haggard with worry.

“Sabrina?! Is he gone?! I heard screaming and-” The moment her reddened eyes fell upon Sabrina she halted, throwing a hand up to her mouth and staring at her niece in horror. “Oh, Sabrina...”

“It's OK, Aunt Zee. I'm alright,” Sabrina assured her. A white lie. She wasn't alright, but she wasn't terrible. She was still feeling emotionally numb.

“You are far from alright!” Zelda shrieked, an almost crazed glint in her teary eyes. She pointed a shaking hand in Sabrina's direction. “Just look at what he's done to you!”

Sabrina took a quick glance down at herself, thinking her aunt was upset over her nakedness.

She nearly screamed.

Blood. So much blood. She was covered in a thick sheet of it, coated in crimson. She had been lying in a pool of it without even noticing.

She knew it was her own, because her body was covered in wounds. Deep bites, scratches and gouge marks, her bare flesh glistening wet and ruby red in the dim light. She looked like she had been mauled by a savage animal.

When she turned to examine her back she could see that it had gotten the worst of it, her skin pretty much flayed in places.  
Her breasts and neck had suffered badly too, while the inside of her thighs were drenched in blood...and some glutinous black substance that was almost like liquid tar.

“Oh...” was all she could say. She even tasted the blood in her mouth.

As though it had been waiting for her to notice, the physical agony was also beginning to kick in. Her skin felt like it was on fire and there was an immense, stabbing pain between her legs that seared all the way to her core.  
In another brief moment of denseness, she wondered how Nick could have possibly inflicted such injuries on her.

But then she remembered the most fundamental thing about glamour spells, and that was that they did nothing to change reality...only one's perception of it.

She suddenly felt very faint, whether it be from shock or loss of blood. Head spinning, she began to fall forwards and Zelda rushed toward her, catching her before she toppled off the bed. Taking her into her arms while being careful not to aggravate her wounds, she gently rebuked her niece.

“Why couldn't you listen to me?” She cradled the young witch, with a comforting hand in her sticky wet hair, “Why couldn't you just leave well enough alone?”

Laying Sabrina back on the scarlet-stained bed, she set about healing the damage the Dark Lord had done. All the while she was alternating between reprimands and apologies, even though Sabrina couldn't understand what she had to apologize for.

“Oh, my poor girl. I'm so sorry.” She kept saying it as she worked her magic, the occasional tear falling from her sorrowful eyes.

Sabrina didn't cry. It was as though she no longer knew how to. She no longer knew how to feel...or maybe she just didn't want to any more, because it was too painful. She wished she could cast a glamour on her entire being so she never had to feel pain again.

Zelda continued to cast her healing spells on her, steadily removing all the physical damage the Dark Lord had left behind until her body was unscathed and as good as new. On the outside, she would be fine. But on the inside, Sabrina knew she would never be the same. She had been broken and while she may be able to piece herself back together eventually, the cracks in her soul would always remain. She would have to live with these scars for all eternity.

The unknown date He spoke of where they would meet again loomed ahead of her, casting a dark shadow on her entire future. Her life was no longer her own and perhaps it never had been. It would belong to Him, just like the rest of her.

And she knew that for what little of it remained left to her, she would be waiting.

Waiting for the time that He would visit her again.

**Author's Note:**

> Let's just say writing this took me waaaaaaaaaaay out of my comfort zone but by the time I realized it I had already written half & didn't want to waste the work. So yeah 😛 I don't think I'll be trying to write any more explicit sexual scenes again.


End file.
